George Gordon Noel Byron

Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest.

Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest.

All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.

All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep,
But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.

A thirst for gold,
The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm
The meanest hearts.

A thirst for gold,
The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm
The meanest hearts.

For Freedom's battle once begun,
Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft is ever won.

For Freedom's battle once begun,
Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft is ever won.

Of all tales 'tis the saddest--and more sad,
Because it makes us smile.

Of all tales 'tis the saddest--and more sad,
Because it makes us smile.